A Matter of Trust
by Rachel Weasley
Summary: Ginny Weasley, hoping to keep her ranch going, encounters a man who says he’s Harry Potter, a family friend. The man says he is helping Ginny in her time of need is thrown into question by his suspicious actions. Soon, another man is identified as Harry P
1. Chapter 1

Title: 

Disclaimer: I wish I owned it all. Please don't sue me or anything, I need my money…

Summary: Ginny Weasley, hoping to keep her ranch going, encounters a man who says he's Harry Potter, a family friend. The man says he is helping Ginny in her time of need is thrown into question by his suspicious actions. Soon, another man is identified as Harry Potter. Who can she trust when one ends up dead?

A/N: I hope ya'll like it. Yet again, the magical world is not real. This story is back in the 1880's and they are in America. So it's kinda old timey stuff. Horse and wagon, no cursing and stuff. Oh, and Ginny's only relative is her brother, Bill. Please review with a yay or nay!

Chapter 1

"Ginny, Ginny!" Kate called in a tone that usual came with bad news.

Ginny shut the door to the horse stall. _What's wrong this time?_ she thought.

"God help us, Ginny, it's the storage barn!" Kate heaved open the huge barn door. "It's on fire!"

With a "Wuff!" Ginny's startled dog, Bug, jumped from his nap in the soft hay.

Ginny couldn't budge. For what seemed like a lifetime, she tried to comprehend what she just heard. No, she wanted to scream, this isn't true. Not the storage barn! Not all her hay and corn!.

But the crackling flames danced behind Kate's plump frame were real. The sound of Ella's nervous neighing and pawing on the ground were real. The frightened look in Kate's eyes were real.

"Ginny, I said the storage barn's on fire!" Kate repeated.

Finally Ginny's thoughts came together. A cold shill flew up her spine and a wave of nausea washed over her. "The corn and hay!" she yelled as she flew past Kate.

"Get the shovel and I'll get as many buckets of water as I can!"

Ginny, her heart racing, stumbled toward the shovel, grabbed its wooden handle and raced toward the glowing barn. The flames licked the building's roof as the smoke rose into the sky. There was no use even hoping they could stop the fire. But if she hurried, maybe she could build a trench to keep the fire from spreading.

Throwing her waist length red braid over her shoulder, she attacked the dirt with her worn shovel. With every shovelful of dirt she overturned, with every shake of her knees, Ginny, for the first time in her life, wanted to curse. She was having bad luck lately, and it seemed everything she touched turned into a full blown disaster.

"The hay and corn are gone," she moaned as sweat beaded down her forehead.

Hopefully she and Kate could stop the fire from spreading to the barn or Ginny's home, that is, if the bad luck swarming at her didn't decide to that the other buildings needed to go down as well.

What if the fire did spread? Ella… how could Ginny have forgotten her? She threw her shovel to the ground and raced back to the barn.

A chestnut mare, ears pricked, black eyes rolling in fear, pranced nervously within her stall.

"It's ok Ella. You're fine girl." Ginny soothed in shaking voice. She opened the stall door, grasped the horse's leather halter, and led her across the barn to the side door.

Scotty had been Ginny's last gift from her brother before he died of consumption in July. "There's something for you out in the barn," Bill had said weakly from his bed. Ginny, her curiosity peaked, never expected a big, beautiful horse. To Ginny, Ella was the last link to Bill.

"It's ok," Ginny whispered again, knowing that the gentle mare sensed the danger. Within seconds, Ginny secured Ella, the other horses, and her milk cow in the nearby pasture, then raced back to the fire.

"Give me that shovel," s deep voice demanded from behind her.

Gasping, Ginny turned to stare into the clear blue eyes of a man she had never seen. His slim face seemed drawn with concern and fear. Her mind, numb with terror, Ginny did nothing, said nothing.

Then his big hand took the shovel from her grasp. "Go help with the water. Don't worry about trying to stop the fire, just soak the ground around it the best you can."

Ginny, always cautious, would normally have been reluctant to accept a total stranger. But right now she didn't care who he was, or where he came from. She just raced to do his orders. He was help; perhaps her luck was turning for good.

After thirty minutes of hauling water, Ginny watched as the flames devoured her barn.

The stranger strode from the back of the barn, the faint light illuminating the black smudges of his face; a face so angular it reminded Ginny of a collection of triangles and squares.

"I got a ditch dug around it and the ground is soaked so the fire won't spread." he said.

Ginny swallowed the lump in her throat.

"I'm awfully sorry Ma'am." he said.

I've been having a bad luck streak lately," Ginny answered as she looked into the strangers serious eyes, Who was he anyways?

"I'm afraid it's more than just a bad luck streak Miss Ginny," he said.

Blinking, she fleetingly wondered how he knew her name. "What? If it wasn't an accident, then that means-"

"I found a broken lantern by the back door. Looks suspicious to me."

"Oh, no," Kate breathed from close behind, "It's enough what we've been through, without somebody settin' fire to the barn.

Ginny, her body growing weary, threw her red braid over her shoulder. Was the fire related to what happened two weeks ago? she thought, nervously rubbing the bridge of her freckled nose. Ginny scanned the rolling piney hills and sprawling green pastures of her three-hundred-acre ranch. Perhaps someone was trying to hurt her by destroying her ranch.

"I'll tell you one thing. It's a miracle this here stranger showed up. What's your name mister?" Kate asked, her hands propped on her massive hips.

"Name's Happy Potter," he said, tilting his straw hat to reveal a glimpse of brown hair.

Ginny's neck stiffened, her mind spinning at his name. "You came after all, did you? I was beginning to think you weren't coming."

"Now Ginny, don't you think you're being rude to Mr. Potter," Kate said. "I think it's good he's come. I told you already. You need someone to help-"

"Well I don't need him!" Ginny said as she glared into the man's slim face.

"I assume my guess is right, then. You're Ginny Weasley? I'm pleased to meet you, too." he said dryly.

"I'll get y'all a cool glass of water," Kate said over her shoulder. "I tell ya what, yes I will. I just don't know if I'll ever make a lady out of you. She's only nineteen years old and she's as plain spoken as an old man.." Kate's voice mixed with the swishing of her green skirt as she neared the well.

"You might as well get on your horse and go back because we don't need ya here.

"But my pa promised your brother. I can't just haul off and leave.."

"Your pa promised my brother something he shouldn't have. It isn't right and I'm not going to have some… some meddler come in here and marry me just because my brother didn't think I could run this ranch alone. I'd eat a skunk first!"

Oh, Bill, why did you leave me? Didn't you trust me enough to know I could run the ranch alone? she wanted to wail.

"Well now, I haven't exactly proposed yet." he said.

"Well you can just keep your proposal, Mister, 'cause I'm getting married in two months anyway."

"That's fine with me, I aim to marry next spring, too."

"Well, why… how…?" Ginny's speech stuttered into nothing as pounding horses' hooves echoed from the tree-lined dirt road.

Ginny and Harry turned to see Braeden Campbell, Ginny's neighbor and future husband, ride toward them in a cloud of dust. Many women in their tiny town thought Braeden was a handsome catch with his straw colored hair, blue eyes, and long proud nose. For Ginny, though, Braeden was simply a steadfast anchor on whom she could always rely.

As he tied his puffing palomino, Braeden's dark gaze scanned the smoldering barn. "I saw the fire's glow," he said, his curious gaze resting on Harry.

"It's too late," Ginny said, wearily rubbing her damp brow.

Braeden, Ginny's lifelong friend, shoved his black hat from his forehead and shook his head.

Ginny cleared her throat and laid a possessive hand on Braeden's muscular forearm. "This is my intended, Mr. Braeden Campbell. Braeden, this is Mr. Harry Potter. Mr. Potter is… is…"

"A family friend who's come to help Ginny," Harry said, then extended his hand to Samuel.

Irritation welled up in Ginny's chest at his familiar use of her given name.

Braeden, his eyes glinting with suspicion, slowly shook Harry's hand.

"Mr. Potter thinks someone set the fire," she said, trying to hide irritation.

"On your way here, you didn't happen to see anyone on the road, did you?" Harry drawled as he looked up at Braeden, who nearly dwarfed him.

"Nah, I didn't. Not even any fresh tracks." Braeden took off his hat and, in a frustrated gesture, ran a calloused hand over his hair. Focusing on Ginny, he ignored Harry. "Do you think it was the same person-"

"I don't know," Ginny sighed.

"What?" Harry asked, almost too quickly.

"I lost thirty head of cattle two weeks ago to rustlers."

"That stinking' thief took you pear crop, too. And now this!" Braeden said. "I'll be glad when-" he stopped abruptly and cast a glance toward Harry. "There's no need for you to stay in these parts Mr. Potter, Ginny and I are marrying in October," he said, encircling her shoulders with his arm.

Harry's smile, slow and measured, resembled a pointed-faced possum. "Listen, I didn't come here to cause a ruckus. It's plain and simple the reason why I'm here. "Fore her brother died, he wrote my pa and asked that I come and help Ginny run the ranch. I promised I'd stay till spring. I got a wedding own my own then."

Ginny relaxed a fraction. At least Harry had not told Braeden about the whole contents of that wretched letter.

Some of the mistrust left Braeden's eyes. "That's mighty good of you Mr. Potter. But Ginny won't be needing you. I guess you can go home and tell you pa-"

"Well if that's the way it is," he said, looking around as if he were memorizing every inch of the ranch, "I guess I should head back. It's been such a long ride, though, it would be mighty nice of you to let me stay a night or two in your barn to get rested up."

"Well if you don't mind sharing with my mare, Mr. Potter, you're welcome to stay in the barn."

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Braeden's hand tightened disapprovingly on her upper arm and Ginny pulled away. They were not married yet and she did what she thought was best.

"Thanks," Harry said.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 

The next morning, Ginny's eyelids fluttered open to stare at her bedroom's shadowed ceiling. Thoughts of yesterday floated around her mind. Both Braeden and Kate had assured her that the community would replace her corn and hay as soon as word spread that she was in need.

Perhaps when she married Braeden next month, things would calm and her life would go back to normal.

The faint crunch of footsteps from the backyard ended Ginny's musings. She tensed, pushed aside her covers and peered out the window. The full moon illuminated the yard, bathing it with it's silvery glow.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Nothing- until she heard someone walking in her yard, prowling around her house.

Ginny's body froze in fear. Bill, I have to go get Bill, she thought.

She got up from her bed and shivered when her bare feet touched the icy floor. She slipped into her housecoat and crept to her brothers room. As she pushed open the door, she suddenly remembered. Bill's bed was empty.

"Oh Bill, I forgot you're not here." her lips quivered and her eyes misted with tears. Ginny stumbled back up the narrow hall. She had to protect the ranch now.

But could she? Apparently Bill hadn't thought so, otherwise he wouldn't have sent for Harry Potter. Ginny backed into her room and grabbed the gun by her bed. She would and could protect her ranch.

Ginny silently tiptoed down the hall to the back door. She grasped the cool handle. Should she go wake Kate?

No, she decided, because that would take too long, and whoever was out there might get away before she got a good shot at him.

Fearfully, she eased open the door and peered into the yard. A man, tall and lean, held a lantern and stood beside the ashes of what once was her barn. He looked toward the giant willow tree behind the house, then glanced at the tree's twin in the back of the big barn.

Ginny stepped out the doorway. The dry grass pricked between her toes as she snuck across the yard. Her lips quivering, she stopped at the big pine tree, propped the rifles barrel against it's trunk, and pulled back the gun's hammer.

"All right, Mister, hold it right there!" she ordered.

Jumping, the man looked around.

"Now raise your hands nice and easy," she instructed.

"Ginny, is that you?" the man called.

Her heart slowed with relief as she lowered the gun. "Mr. Potter?"

"Yes it's me. I was just-"

Walking from behind the tree, Ginny approached the barn. "What on earth are you doing out here in the middle of the night?"

Her big coonhound, Bug, barked once from behind the barn, ran to Ginny's side, and licked her fingers.

"I couldn't sleep and came out to see if I could spot anything else in this here heap that might help figure out who set the fire." Harry raised the lantern, illuminating the few feet between them, and he saw Ginny, standing there in her night clothes. A flicker of something wicked flashed in his eyes and she stumbled out of reach of the lantern's light. Heat rushed to her cheeks.

"Excuse me, Ma'am," he said like a shy schoolboy. "I just ain't never seen a lady in her night clothes before."

Ginny placed an unsteady hand against her chest as if to cover her already covered bosom. Bill would have skinned her alive if she had stepped out of the house like this when he was alive.

"I don't usually go outside dressed like this Mr. Potter," she said, "but I was so scared I didn't think."

"Please forgive me, Ma'am. What must you think of me acting like a plumb fool." his voice was almost too kind, too thoughtful.

She turned toward the house after a firm "goodnight," and hurried into the safety of her home. Perhaps she should have listened to Braeden's silent warning about letting Harry stay in the barn.

After stealing back to her room, she leaned the rifle back against the wall and peered out her window. Harry was walking at a slow pace back to the bar, the lantern casting shadows across the yard.

Suddenly a warm hand gripped her shoulder. Ginny clamped her hand to her mouth to stifle a scream.

"It's only me, child," Kate said. "What are you doing? You woke me up."

Ginny placed a calming hand over her chest and took a deep breath. "You scared me. I was just.. I was… oh Kate! I think I made a mistake letting that Mr. Potter stay here."

Ginny expected a reassuring hug and encouraging words, but all she got was a peck on the cheek and heavy silence. "Now don't you fret, child," Kate finally said. "He'll be up and gone before you know it."

Ginny pulled away slightly. She looked into Kate's eyes. "You don't think I should have let him stay, do you?"

"Now I didn't say that. Seeing as I was the one who told you to be nice to him, it doesn't seem right for me to say you've done wrong by letting him stay here."

"But he isn't… he's so…" Ginny didn't know quite how to express her feelings.

"I know, child. And there's another thing I just don't understand."

"What?"

"Well, I remember little Harry Potter when your brother and his ma and pa were coming from Tennessee twenty years ago, after the war."

After Ginny's parents died in an accident andher brother, 19 years her senior, raised her. He hired on Kate as Ginny's nanny, and Kate moved out with Bill and lived with them ever since. Kate became Ginny's Momma. Ginny sometimes wondered why Kate had never married. She now suspected that the reason was laced with pain.

"That there Harry Potter was the spitting' image of his pa. He wasn't but eight years old, but everybody said he's grow up to look just like Mr. James Potter."

"Well, does he look like him?"

"That's the problem, Gin. He doesn't look like any Potter I every saw."

"Oh."

"But his horse has Mr. Potter's brand."

"You looked at it?"

Kate nodded. "After supper yesterday. I sneaked out and had a look-see while he was bathing in the creek."

"But why was he standing by the barn's ashes, looking around like… like"

"Shh, child, there he goes."

Ginny observed Harry as he left the barn with a shovel in one hand and a lantern in the other, He stopped to peer over his shoulder as if the demons of hell were watching him.

"What's he up to?"

"I don't know, child, But I aim to find out." Kate turned for the door.

"No… you can't… he might…he… he looked at me just horrible when I went out there. I.."

Kate slowly widened her eyes. "Has that man tried to get… to get ugly with you?"

Ginny said nothing, but Kate's incredulous expression said she heard all she needed to hear. "I'll just fix him where he can't do that no more."

"Oh, I wish Bill were here, or Braeden, or-"

"That man's tryin' to get ugly with my child. I don't care whose son he is. Make him think again about how he acts."

"Momma Kate, you can't!" Ginny hissed, rushing after her. "He's stronger and… and…" She started to say "bigger than you," but stopped herself. Harry might be taller than Kate, but he sure didn't outweigh her.

Kate entered the hall, rifle in hand. "I'm gonna see what he's up to. Then I'm gonna tell him to get of this here property."

"What are you going to do if he don't leave?"

Bug's low warning growl sent a spiral of chills down Ginny's back. A shot suddenly echoed in the woods.

Another shot exploded and Bug's growls turned into wild and furious barking.

Running into her bedroom, Ginny grabbed her rifle then raced back into the kitchen with Kate.

"Help," a deep voice moaned, but a new shot silenced it. Then a shadowed figure collapsed in front of the window.

Ginny blinked against the tears flooding her eyes. Was Harry the gunman or the victim? Were she and Kate next?

But nothing happened. A long eerie silence settled across the ranch. The only noise was the sound of Kate's short, rasping breaths.

Nothing, neither she, nor Kate moved. And neither did anything outside.

Kate dared to open the door an inch or so. "I hear the man. He's running."

"Bug," Ginny whispered.

"We gotta see about the man who's been shot." Kate said urgently, then opened the door.

"What if their was more than one. What if they're still out there?"

"I imagine they're gone. "They've probably done what they came to do. Go get me a lamp, child."

Kate and Ginny silently made their way to the body that lay still on the ground.

"It's Mr. Potter," Kate said, "And he's dead.

As she started at the lifeless body, Ginny's body went numb. Two perfectly round bullet holes oozed blood into Harry's tan shirt just under his left shoulder.

"What are we gonna do?"

"We gotta go get Mr. Braeden."

"I'll go."

"No, we'll go. I ain't letting you go alone. That man might be watching, and he might have friends."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 

"And you said the body was right here?" Braeden asked, holding the lantern up so that he could see Ginny and Kate's faces better.

Ginny couldn't speak. The body disappeared and then vanished. It just didn't make sense.

"Yes, he was right there," Kate said, pointing to the dark bloody puddle.

"He's gone," Ginny muttered, finally able to speak. "He just… just vanished." She rubbed the bridge of her nose as the pine scented hair lifted wisps of her hair up to flutter around her face.

"Are you sure he was dead?"

Kate's head bobbed up and down. "He was dead as a doornail."

"Whoever shot him must have hauled him off," Braeden muttered.

"That means they watched us go get you."

"It's possible. Constable Jones ought to be here soon. I guess we should leave everything to him."

Bug ran toward them from the north woods. Whining, he sniffed the ground where the dead man had lay and looked up at Ginny with curious eyes.

Relieved to see her buddy alive, Ginny dropped to her knees and stroked his fur as he licked her hand. "I thought you were a goner. You did a good job with all that barking."

Braeden's nephew, Tony Campbell, and Constable Jones rounded the dusty road's corner with the sound of pounding horses' hooves.

In a matter of minutes, the gray-haired, wiry constable took a full report of the situation. Then he stared at Ginny, his keen brown eyes full of speculation.

"It's not that I'm tryin' to doubt your word, Miss Ginny, but are you sure this man said his name was Harry Potter?"

Ginny glanced at Braeden in the morning light, then nodded to the constable. "Yes," she said.

"That's the name he said," Braeden agreed.

"Sure is," Kate added, " That's what he said but, well, he sure didn't look like no Potter I ever saw. The Potter's all have green eyes. Every one of them. What with the barn burnin' and him showing up all of a sudden, I didn't think about that till after supper. Then I took a good look at his horse and it has the Potter brand and I just figured…" she gave a tiny shrug.

The constable's brow furrowed. "What's his horse look like?"

"Black," Kate answered, "black as charcoal all over. Except it has one white sock from the knee down."

"You need to see the horse?" Ginny asked.

"Don't think I do," the constable replied. "That white leg… It's the back left one, ain't it?"

Kate nodded slowly.

Ginny's pulse increased. Did Constable Jones know something he wasn't telling?

"What are you getting at?" Braeden asked.

"Well, a man came limping into town about two o' clock this morning. Says his name's Harry Potter. Says he camped out two nights ago with a man named Travis Parker. Harry told him your pa had sent for him. Next thing he knew that Parker fellow jumped on him while he was sleeping. Beat him up real bad before Harry had a chance to wake up real good. When Harry started fighting back, Parker whacked him on the head with an iron skillet. Knocked him right out. When he woke up he was tied to a tree, left for the bears or starvation. Everything but his bundle of clothes was gone. When night fell again, he went back to sleep. When he woke up about midnight or so, somebody had cut the ropes. Can you believe that?"

Is he… is he alright?" Ginny asked, feeling partly responsible because he had come out here for her in the first place. After all, Bill had sent for him.

"He's mighty bruised up. But accordin' to the doc, he'll be fit as a fiddle in a few days time. Whoever cut those ropes were mighty sneaky about it."

Two weeks ago the constable had said the same thing. Whoever stole your cattle were mighty sneaky about it.

"Mind if I look around your place, Miss Ginny?" Constable Jones asked, stroking his gray mustache.

"Go ahead," Ginny said flatly.

"The shots came from the north pasture."

"The men are supposed to be here any time," Ginny said, referring to her four hired hands. "They can help you."

"Maybe the five of you together can find something. I ain't to sure what to think of all this. But I do know…" Braeden glanced at Kate and Constable Jones. "With all due respect I'd like to talk to Miss Ginny alone."

"We can use the parlor," she said, already knowing Braeden was going to say they should go ahead and get married. Perhaps he was right; but for some very good reasons, she had made up her mind a months ago that they should wait until October.

* * *

Kate turned to watch Ginny and Braeden walk toward the house as Constable Parker headed toward the north pasture. Braeden placed a hand on the small of Ginny's back and opened the door for her. From the moment Ginny had announced that she was marrying Braeden, Kate had felt uneasy. The two looked downright handsome together, but Kate just couldn't convince herself that they should marry. Ginny had never asked her opinion and Kate didn't feel like she should give it.

Then Kate remembered back to a time when she had a young man of her own, and she suppressed the desire twining it's way through her heart. Nathan, an employee of the Potter's, had stolen her heart.

Constable Jones had said that the real Harry Potter was in town now. Like a young girl in love, Kate's heart skipped a beat. Might he have word of Nathan? Had he ever married, ever had children? Did he still remember and search for her daughter that was taken away from her? If Kate got a chance, she would ask him.

* * *

In the parlor, Ginny stood only inches away from Braeden. "Ginny," Braeden said, placing his hands on her shoulders, "I'm worried 'bout your safety. We don't need to put off getting' married till October. I can take care of the details and we can marry by the end of the week."

Ginny stared over Braeden's shoulder and thought about last night, when, during all the uproar, she had wished Braeden was there to protect her.

But last night had shown her something else. After Bill had obviously not trusted her to run the ranch, she wanted to prove her strength to herself and to Bill. If only for two months, she would like to know that she could take care of the ranch.

_Well Bill, I do plan to overcome all that's happened, and in two months this ranch will be runnin' as smoothly as it did the day you died._

Then that same doubtful whisper haunted her heart. Did she really want to marry Braeden? Or did she want to wait… take her chances on true love?

"No," she said, for the first time realizing just how strong her desire was to prove herself. "You've got a harvest to finish and so do I. And you know Tony's parents aren't moving here till October. Who'll be there to run the ranch while you're protectin' me? And who'd be here to run my ranch if I moved over to your place?"

Braeden, dropping his arms, clamped his mouth in a straight line. "You ain't changed a bit, Ginny Weasley. In all the years I've known you-"

"Momma Kate would call it common sense," Ginny said, raising her chin a fraction, daring him with her expression to say something else. She did not add that Kate called it stubborn common sense.

"You're hired hands should be here in a minute, Ginny. I'm gonna ask David or one of the others if-"

"I've been thinking on something, Braeden," she said, "Bill wrote Harry's dad to send his son out here to help me. Well he's here. He's in town… and I need help. And… and he's going to need a place to stay until he recovers from that beating."

"I don't like the idea of a complete stranger staying' with the woman I aim to marry!" Braeden argued.

"He won't be staying with me. He'd stay in the barn. And as soon as he gets better, he'll be good protections." Ginny marveled at her own quick plan.

Braeden looked into her eyes as if he were weighing her every word.

"Besides, I can't ask David to stay here. You know his wife just… just recovered from an… encouchment." Ginny's cheeks warmed at the introduction of such a delicate subject as childbirth. "And the other three have wives too. Would you leave you wife alone to go sleep in a barn?"

"Common sense," he muttered in disgust.

"You don't have to say Mr. Potter can stay 'til we meet him. Why, I… I might not even agree to it after we meet him. But it would be a good plan if he's as respectable as Bill thought his father was."

Ginny suspected she had reasoned Braeden into at least considering her idea. However, if he knew the letter Bill had written also included reference to marriage, he would never agree to it. He would also never agree if he suspected what Ginny was reluctant to admit to herself: that she was a tiny bit curious about the real Harry Potter.

"We'll go meet him," Braeden finally said, "Then we'll decide."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 

One hour later, Ginny, and Braeden arrived at Dr. Engle's office in town.

"Dr. Engle, Constable Jones says there's a man staying here named Harry Potter." Braeden said as Ginny stood beside him at the doctor's front door.

The short, gray-haired physician nodded, peering up at Braeden through wire rimmed spectacles. "Yep, he sure is. He took a good beating, too." The sounds of squeaking wagons and horse' hooves in the street seemed to punctuate the doctor's claim.

"Is he.. May we see Mr. Potter?" Ginny asked.

"Well, he was asleep again the last time I checked, but I can see if he's awake." Dr. Engle opened the door wider, and Ginny and Braeden entered his cramped quarters.

"Wait," Braeden said removing his black hat, "do you know for sure he's Harry Potter?"

"Well, he had a letter in his pocket…" the doctor looked at Ginny. "From Bill to his pa."

Ginny's face warmed. So Dr. Engle knew Bill had arranged their marriage. Clasping her hands, she peered down at the tops of her white lace gloves.

"And he had me wire his pa first thing this morning to tell them he was all right and ask them to send him some more money since all of his had been stolen."

A big man with green eyes and a patch of messy black hair that stood up in all directions limped into the room from the hall and cleared his throat. "I'm Harry Potter. You wanted to see me?" His voice contrasted with his rugged cowhand experience and sounded more like someone from the east than the west.

He was dressed in denims and a tan pullover shirt the buttoned from mid chest up. Ginny figured that because of his size, he had to have his clothes tailored-made like Braeden did. Dr. Engle's small kitchen and parlor seem overcrowded with Harry on one side and Braeden on the other.

"Well I'll be," the doctor said, "you feeling any better?

With a smile, Harry winced and fingered the bruises under his left eye. "Yeah, still sore though."

Ginny nodded. No other proof than his looks to decide that he was the real Harry Potter. Kate had insisted on drawing a sketch of Harry's father. Her sketch of James Potter was almost identical to the man standing in front of her. Square jaw and chin, a nose that was just almost too large, wide-set, honest eyes that resembled emeralds.

He was the spitting image of his father and had the mannerisms of a gentleman who should wear handmade wool suits and sit in fancy parlors sipping tea instead of riding across Texas. He was the kind of man Sarah Bishop, Ginny's best friend, would call a sight for sore eyes. Ginny had to admit, he was.

"Come on and sit down." Dr. Engle motioned to Harry, then to Ginny and Braeden. "Here's the man you were asking about. Harry, this is Miss Ginny Weasley and her intended, Braeden Campbell.

"Pleased to meet you," Harry said, his gaze lingering on Ginny in a way that made a tendril of restlessness ignite deep within her.

As they all seated themselves around the sturdy oak kitchen table, Harry glanced at Braeden and extended his hand,

Ginny watched as the two men shook hands and sized each other up. Knowing Braeden, she imagined he was disconcerted to finally meet up with a man who was slightly bigger than he.

"Bill didn't tell me about his sending for you." Ginny said slowly as they sat down. "I found your pas letter in response to Bill's after…" Ginny tried to control her shaking voice.

Attempting to compose herself, she stared out the streaked window as her best friend Sarah Bishop, drove by with her father in their black two-seater buggy. A hot tear splashed down her face. Sarah still had her family. She was alone.

Braeden laid a possessive hand on her shoulder and finished for her. "Bill died last month. Consumption."

"I'm awfully sorry." Harry said respectfully. "He mentioned something of illness in his letter."

Ginny nodded.

"He went fast," Dr. Engle muttered. "Too fast… um, would you young 'uns like some coffee?" he asked, his gray eyes suspiciously red. Dr. Engle was like one of the family.

Five minutes later, Ginny sipped a cup of hot coffee, bitter coffee, The town agreed that Dr. Engle made the worst coffee.

"As I was saying, Mr. Potter," she started, trying not to choke, "I know about Bill sending after you-"

"That letter he mailed… He didn't seem to think you'd let me stay if you knew…" Harry trailed off and glanced cautiously at Braeden.

Ginny squirmed inside. Harry understood. He had just stopped himself from mentioning that appalling marriage arrangement. "well… I, um, I seem to be in a little… predicament." Rubbing the bridge of her nose, she looked into Braeden's eyes, asking for support.

And as he told Harry everything, ending with Ginny's burned barn and the murder.

"It's a good thing your brother sent for me, Miss Ginny. Looks like I got here just in time." Harry ran a hand through his black locks.

"I ain't said you could stay yet," Braeden said, raising his chin.

"I guess I haven't made myself clear. Please excuse me," Harry said, one side of his mouth lifting in a politely challenging smile, "but her brother was the best friend my pa ever had. Mr. Weasley wrote, asking that I would come to help Miss Ginny. My pa wrote back and gave his word that I would stay until spring. That's all I would agree to since I'm getting married in the spring myself. And well…"

Harry looked Braeden square in the eyes, his word measured. "My pa is a man of honor. So am I. We promised a dying man I would help his sister, and I'm here to give that help whether anybody agrees to it or not."

Braeden tensed.

Ginny's stomach clenched.

A long silence filled the room. And the two men stared at each other like a pair of bulls trying to decide whether to butt heads or come to a mutual respect of the others strength.

"Besides," Harry added, "I want to know why Travis Parker tied me up."

Braeden nodded slowly. "He was on Ginny's property for a reason."

"I think we owe it to her brother to find out that reason," Harry said.

"I think you might be right," Braeden agreed.

Ginny relaxed. Maybe her plan would work. Harry Potter's protection would help her prove to herself that she could run the ranch smoothly.

"Well if I'm to be staying with Miss Ginny, I guess I should go on out to her ranch. But I need to replace my guns first. The only thing that Travis Parker didn't steal was my clothing."

Within ten minutes Ginny was enveloped in the smells of coffee and peppermint. Through a clutter of horse plows, hand tools, and bolts of fabric, Ginny saw Sarah Bishop scrutinizing a bolt of blue fabric. Instantly Sarah dimpled into a warm smile.

Ginny turned toward Harry. "Sarah, this is Mr. Harry Potter, an old family friend. He's come to help me out at the ranch awhile. Mr. Potter, Sarah Bishop, my best friend."

"Miss bishop," Harry said, nodding his head.

"How do, Miss Sarah," Braeden muttered respectfully.

Sarah produced a strained smile.

"The guns are over here, Harry." Braeden said.

"We need to talk," Ginny whispered to Sarah.

"Okay."

"Sarah, I'm ready," Joshua Bishop said, walking toward the front door with a fifty-pound bag of cornmeal over his shoulder.

"Oh, just a minute, Pa. I wanted to buy this material." Sarah clutched the fabric.

"Make it quick. Your ma wants you back home in time to help with supper. How do, Miss Ginny," he said with the usual chill. He, for some reason, never really liked her. "How's everything up your way?"

Ginny gazed at Sarah. "Not so good, Mr. Bishop. Somebody burned down my storage barn yesterday."

Sarah gasped.

"I'm real sorry to hear that," Mr. Bishop said, his deep voice cold. "Think you might know who did it.?"

"We aren't really sure. But I had a visitor who lied about who he was. Then somebody shot and killed him, and his body disappeared."

"Do you think he started the fire?" Sarah asked.

"I don't know." Ginny swallowed the lump in her throat, then recounted Travis's tying Harry to a tree.

"Sounds to me like it might have something to do with the cattle theft." Mr. Bishop said.

"That's what I'm afraid of." Ginny nodded.

"Oh, Ginny," Sarah breathed, "how awful. Why don't you and Miss Kate come stay with us till you find out for sure who did it." Our house is big enough for half the town. I would just die if anything happened to you."

Mr. Bishop cleared his throat in objection, and Ginny did not have to look at his face to know that there was a granite like gleam in his eyes.

"I have to run the ranch. I just can't haul off and leave it."

"But you've got hired hands," Sarah protested.

"I still have to be there. Besides, Mr. potter will be protection."

"We need to be going, Sarah," Mr. Bishop said.

"Okay, just a minute." a quick squeeze of Ginny's hand and then, gathering the material, she went to pay Will Adams, who waited expectantly behind the counter.

"I'm sure the lucky man you ask to the turnaround picnic won't be able to take his eyes off you and your new dress," Mr. Adams said as Sarah handed him the money, "Who are you asking?"

Ginny, unable to ignore Sarah and Mr. Adams conversation, pretended to be interested in a blue checked bolt of fabric. She wished Sarah would happily marry, and Will Adams was a wonderful prospect.

"I'll probably be going by myself," Sarah said.

Will had been trying to court her for a year, but for some reason, Sarah had not encouraged him. Most young women in their town thought that Will was an attractive man. He also owned his own business and had money in the bank. But at thirty, he had yet to marry. Perhaps Sarah was not ready to marry; but at nineteen years old, neither Sarah nor Ginny had much time left if they wanted a husband. That was part of the reason Ginny had accepted Braeden's proposal. Ginny stole a glance toward Harry, who was fingering a Colt revolver. Had she acted to hastily?


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 

Harry, admiring the setting sun, relaxed against the porch's white post, his head still aching where the skillet had hit him. Glancing at Ginny's thoughtful profile as she gently rocked the porch swing, he wondered exactly what the relationship was between her and Braeden Campbell. Sure, they were engaged, but they acted more like brother and sister than two people in love. And unless he was mistaken, Miss Sarah Bishop and Mr. Braeden Campbell had eyes for each other.

But then, that wasn't any of Harry's business. He had simply come to help out a family friend, and he would be gone in the spring.

"Where do you want me to sleep Miss Weasley?" he finally asked.

The last glint from the setting sun made Ginny's red hair glisten with a jewel-like life of it's own. She rubbed the top of her nose and anxiously looked at him. "I don't think it would be proper for you to stay in the house with Momma Kate and me. Folks in town would find out and start talking."

"We don't want that now do we?" Harry smiled mischievously, and his left eye protested in pain.

Ginny, raising her chin, stared at him with matronly reproof. "No, we don't."

He cocked his head toward the yard. "So I guess that leaves that big oak tree or the barn."

"Take your pick."

"Well I guess I'll take the barn."

Straightening her blue work shirt, she stood; her prim expression vanished and uncertainty took it's place. "Don't get me wrong Mr. potter. I… do appreciate your helping me with the ranch. I… it's just that a lady can't be too safe when it comes to her reputation."

Even in the dim light, Harry saw the faint rush of color to her cheeks. "Now Miss Ginny, please don't think for one minute I would do anything to harm your reputation. The way I see it, our parents were such good friends that I have a responsibility to you. I guess I'm more or less your guardian angel."

"My intended wouldn't appreciate you saying things like that." She raised her chin again.

"I didn't mean anything by it. You know I've got a lady back home. I came out here thinking of you like my sister. I-"

"I didn't have anything to do with… my brother…"

"About out arranged marriage?"

Ginny nodded curtly.

"I didn't have anything to do with it, either. I guess when you were born, your brother and my pa just got carried away and decided we should get married. Well, nobody bothered to ask wither of us about it, and it's very clear we think otherwise. So I say we should leave it at that. You've chosen your husband and I've chosen my wife."

"Braeden doesn't know about that part of the letter yet."

"I gathered that. No man worth his salt would let me stay here if he knew." He ran his hand through his hair.

"Well, you told Braeden you were staying whether anybody agreed to it or not. Didn't sound to me like you gave him much of a choice."

"I did promise your brother, and a gentleman always stands by his word."

"You're right. I imagine Braeden would do the same."

"Well, I'll get you some blankets, Mr. Potter," she said, bustling through the front door.

Harry picked up a nearby match, lit the lantern sitting on the porch railing, then stepped off the porch, lantern in hand. His worn boots scuffed against rain-deprived grass, and the lantern's hinges squeaked with every step he took.

When Harry had arrived this morning, all four of Ginny's hired hands, David Cosgrove, Gunther Peterson, Tyrone Burks, and Mac Dixon, had been out branding cattle. Harry met them when they came in for lunch, and he strongly suspected that one of them could be involved in Ginny's theft and arson.

However, he had not revealed his thought. Instead, as long as his aching body allowed, he had tried to clean up around the burned barn. He sensed that Braeden was not very happy about his staying with Ginny. What man would be? He wondered in Braeden suspected Ginny's hired hands.

Harry, entering the sprawling barn, raised the lantern to illuminate the building. The loft was well stocked with fragrant hay; six occupied horse stalls lined the back wall. A tin milk can sat against the barn's side door, which led out to the cow pasture.

When the door creaked open behind him, Harry stilled in fear, Out of instinct, he whipped his new Colt Peacemaker from it's holster, spun around, and had the weapon cocked before he stopped.

Ginny stared at him like a startle kitten.

Smiling tightly, he let out a pent-up breath and placed his gun back in his holster., "Sorry, I'm a little jumpy with all that's gone on. You startled me.

"Pulling guns on people can be dangerous."

"You're right, but not pulling guns on people can be dangerous, too."

"I guess I'll call out your name from now on. You'd have a hard time explaining to Braeden-"

"I don't shoot carelessly, if that's what you're implying," Harry snapped. Anger tightened his chest as a horrifying memory washed over him, the same memory that had slept with him every night for a year. He could not forgive himself.

"Here are your blankets," she said and then walked toward him.

Teeth clenched, he took the bedding.

"I didn't mean to imply… It's just, you scared me."

Harry nodded and took in the smell s of hay and leather.

Would he ever recover? Would the guilt ever end? "It's okay. I guess we're both a little on edge."

"I guess." She glanced around the barn as if she wanted to say something else but didn't quite know how to say it.

'Did you notice the full moon tonight?" Harry asked. The rising moon's mellow glow spilled in from the open door, ignited Ginny's waist length wavy hair, and softened her freckled cheeks.

Ginny Weasley was not a blazing beauty he had seen on the East Coast or even the kind of his fiancée, Emily McCall, was. "Fresh" was the word to describe Ginny. Fresh, like a cool tangy breeze wafting in from the ocean. He chuckled to himself-an ocean breeze with a stubborn streak. And Harry, a featherlike caution stirring in his chest, imagined Ginny's pristine charm could twist into a man's heart, into his very soul, and forever transform his world.

But Miss Ginny Weasley 's pristine char, was none of his concern for his obligation lay with Emily McCall. Fate had decided that, and nothing or no one would ever change his pledge of duty. However, there were some things a man, regardless of his obligations, found hard to ignore.

"I…I hope the coyotes don't get to noisy for you. They sometimes get rowdy when the moon's full."

"I never minded a few Coyotes. It's the panthers I mind."

"I haven't seen a panther in a good six weeks. But Bug, my dog, doesn't like them either. He'll let us know if one shows up."

"Where is Bug?"

"On my way out to the barn, I saw him sniffing around the west woods. He makes his rounds every night then settles down under the house."

"Good. I want him close. Sometimes a dog can save your life."

Nodding, Ginny hesitated. "Momma Kate seems to think it's an awful shame for you to sleep in the barn, but…"

A slow easy smile tugged the side of his mouth. So she was at least slightly concerned about his well being. Harry was beginning to think she didn't care whether he lived or died. "Don't worry about me Miss Ginny. I've slept in a barn or two before."

Ginny grinned, an obvious relief in her relaxing brows. "I hoped you wouldn't take it personally." She rubbed those freckles again, and Harry expected them to fall off at the rate she was going.

"Nothing personal taken."

"Well goodnight then, Mr. Potter."

"Good night."

She walked toward the door.

"oh, and Ma'am…" he started.

Ginny turned back to face him.

"My name is Harry." Why did he say that?

"I don't think Braeden would-"

"Of course not. And we wouldn't want to upset Mr. Campbell." And where had that come from?

"Ginny, blinking once, peered at him in cold appraisal. "what's your intended's name?"

"Emily McCall."

"Would you want Miss Emily McCall getting' too…too friendly with another man?"

"Of course not, I apologize. I shouldn't have said that. I guess I'm slightly irritable from being so sore."

Warm concern replaced the coldness in her eyes. "Are you going to be all right? Momma Kate said we could probably scratch up an old tick for you to sleep on instead of those blankets."

"No, don't go to all that trouble. These blankets will be fine. I'll be fine. It's just going to take me a few days to get over that beating. It seems the closer I get to thirty, the longer I stay sore."

"Well, all right," she said, then closed the squeaking door behind her.

Shaking his head, Harry wondered what he had gotten himself into. Seemed like every time he opened his mouth, he had said the exact opposite of what a gentleman would say. Maybe tomorrow would be a better day for conversation, but right now he was beat .

Harry spread out one of the blankets on what he hoped was the softest pile of hay. Just as he was ready to remove his gun belt, the door slowly creaked open again.

Ginny walked in, her slender hand pressed to her heart. "Mr. Potter, somebody's prowling around the burned barn."

All remnants of sleep vanished. Harry double-checked his holstered Col, the turned out the lantern. "You stay here Miss Ginny," he whispered, then rushed outside.

Harry, fear in his gut, cold sweat trickling down is back, tiptoed in front of the barn. Did the intruder have a gun? He sucked in the smell of Texas dust and cherished what could be his last breath.

In seconds he reached the barn's corner, flattened himself against the rough wood, and quickly surveyed the yard. Just as Ginny had said, a shadowed figure lurked near the burned barn, digging. Like a ghostly gravedigger, a man rhythmically placed a shovel deep into the earth, emptied it, the went back for more. Harry slowly pulled out his Peacemaker.

Scanning the yard, he searched for a better vantage point and found one: Kate's summer log kitchen, to the right of where the man dug. It was in the barn's shadow and was the perfect place from which to take aim.

With a quick breath, he inched around the corner. Then he heard something behind him. A sniff? Glancing back, Harry peered down into a pair of round eyes. 'What are you doing here? I told you to stay in the barn." he hissed.

Ginny raised her chin. "This is my barn and my property. If I want to follow you, then I'll follow you," she whispered.

Just what Harry had suspected, obstinance. And if Miss Ginny Weasley were as strong as her will, that would be a problem. But as things stood…

Without another word, he replaced his gun, grabbed her small waist, and picked her up with little effort.

Eyes widened and a mouth opened in shock were the last things he saw before he threw Ginny over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Put me down!" she demanded, beating his back and squirming like a cornered animal.

In six easy, silent strides, Harry hauled her back to the barn like she was a half-empty bag of corn, for that's about what she weighed. Then with equal ease he deposited her on her backside into a pile of hay.

"Just what do you think you are doing?" she whispered, trying to scramble to her feet.

"I'm protecting you from yourself!" Harry reached for the long rope hanging from a nail and gently pushed her back into the hay. He jerked her wrists together and tried to place them at her ankles.

Ginny broke free and tried to grab the rope. "Give me that!'

Harry, gritting his teeth, regained his grip on her wrists and jerked them to her ankles. Then, on wrap, two wraps, three wraps, and the knot, just as if she were a calf he had roped.

"You-"

"Shh!" he commanded, "and don't move."

Trying to suppress the anger gripping his stomach, Harry tiptoed back to the barn's corner. She could have gotten herself killed, he thought.

Once again, his Colt ready, he peered around the corner. No shadowed figure, no digging, nothing, just as if he had been dreaming only seconds before.

Bug's bark muffled from the woods' depth shattered the silence.

Doubling his fist, Harry hit the first oak he passed, glad for the punishing blow of flesh against bark.

"Women!"

Knowing that tracking the man was pointless, Harry went after him anyway. He followed the direction of Bug's bark across the north pasture and toward the waiting woods. Scrubby dry grass and fragrant bitterweeds tore at his boots as Bug's barks grew closer. A breeze wound through the thick evergreens, oaks, and hickories. Shadows, foreboding and suspicious, lurked among the foliage. Harry slowed his pace. No sense taking any chances.

Then, out of nowhere, a small ball of fur raced past his feet. Bug was close behind, his coonhound bellow proudly proclaiming that he was on the trail.

Harry's eyes rolled in frustration. Some bandit is on the loose, and bug's chasing a rabbit.

A quick scan of the woods and pasture, then Harry gave up on tracking the man, who was long gone. Besides, Harry didn't like the woods at night because of the shadows that brought back too many memories. Memories splattered with Zach's warm blood.

His now stinging eyes went blurry, but a hard, determined blink held the tears in check.

He had not cried at the funeral; he would not start now.

Knowing he should go release Ginny, Harry trudged back toward the barn. _I don't imagine she's very happy with me_, he thought. But his father had promised Bill, and Harry refused to let her get hurt.

* * *

Ginny, her heart pounding out angered beats, struggled against the rope chafing her wrists. When Harry Potter comes back, he better be ready for a fight! She scanned the dark barn, looking for something, anything with which to cut the rope.

Bug, barking excitedly, neared the barn, and raced across the south field. Then a man's slow, crunching footsteps approached and halted outside the door. Ginny held her breath, hoping the man was Harry.

The barn door slowly creaked open to reveal an ominous shadowed figure who slowly approached with the brush of boots against hay. Ginny's stomach clenched in terror as she opened her mouth, ready to scream.

"I wasn't surprised when I didn't catch the intruder, but your staying quiet, Miss Ginny, now that's a surprise," the intruder said.

Relief, warm and comforting, flowed through her veins, which was quickly followed by white hot anger. "Harry Potter, you untie me right now! Do you hear me? Right now!"

Chuckling, Harry bent over her bound arms and legs, and, with one quick jerk of the rope, she was free. But before he had a chance to straighten, Ginny slammed her open palm against his cheek.

Ginny gasped; Harry stilled. And the two stared at each other nearly nose to nose in dead silence.

She had never slapped anyone before in her life, and now hot, accusing tingles spread from her palm to her wrist.

"Maybe next time, you should double your fist so I might feel it." Harry finally said, a genuine, infuriating quirk to his lips.

"Oh, you…you" Ginny stumbled to her feet. "I own this land you're standing on, and I'll have you remember it! And if you ever, ever do anything like that again, I'll have Constable Parker throw you off this property for good.! Do you understand me?"

"I was only trying to protect you!"

"Well, I don't need that kind of protecting!"

"Than why did you ask me to stay?"

"It wasn't so you could tie me up in my own barn!" Ginny's chest heaved with every churning breath, and she turned to stop toward the ajar door. Then, with more power than she dreamed she possessed, she slammed it behind her with a resounding boom.

Wincing, Harry whistled softly as he gingerly stroked his left cheek. Her slap had connected right under his bruised eye. He had tightened his gut to stop himself from yelling when she delivered the blow.

Yet now he laughed, a soft rumbling laugh that started deep and refused denial. Miss Ginny did have spunk, and that was something he admired in a woman. Earlier he compared her to and ocean breeze with a stubborn streak. Now Harry knew he had underestimated her. Ginny had hurricane potential. For the first time in his life, Harry felt a cold, coiling jealousy slither into the pit of his stomach…a jealousy of one Braeden Campbell.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Kate jumped away from the open. Parlor window and hurried down the hall to her bedroom. She had begun to wonder what was delaying Ginny and had walked into the parlor to investigate. Then she heard Ginny's awful screaming and the barn door slamming.

Chuckling under her breath, Kate crawled into bed and pulled the sheet under her chin. She reflected over her doubts that Ginny should marry Braeden and then snickered. One interesting autumn this was going to be, she mused.

Kate heard Ginny fling the front door open and band shut. She closed her eyes, tilted her head just right, opened her mouth wide, and started snoring.

Ginny's angry footfalls echoed up the hallway, stopping outside Kate's ajar door.

Not opening her eyes, Ginny pictured Ginny, who probably stood with her hands on her narrow hips, her chin high in defiance, and her full lips pressed into a narrow line. Kate tried not to smile. That Mr. Harry is going to keep things stirred up for sure.

"Momma Kate, are you awake?" Ginny whispered.

Skipping a snore, Kate swallowed.

"Momma Kate?"

"Child? What do you need, honey?" Kate asked groggily.

"Oh, Momma Kate," Ginny wailed. Then she was on the bed, piled up in the middle, sobbing like she had at her brothers funeral.

"Now, Child, it can't be all that bad." Pulling Ginny close, Kate stroked her mane of fiery red hair, laced with the smell of lilacs.

"I…I miss Bill so much," Ginny finally choked out. "If…if he hadn't died, he would know what to do about all this…this…the barn burning and the cattle missing and somebody prowling around."

"Prowling around?" Kate's eyes widened.

Through diminishing sniffles, Ginny recited the events of the last thirty minutes.

"Do you know what the man was digging for?" Kate asked.

"No. I didn't think to look. I was to mad at Harry…I mean Mr. Potter. Oh, Momma Kate, why did Bill die?"

"Just remember, Child. No matter what happens to you someone will always be here for you."

Ten minutes later, Ginny took off her tan work dress and laid it over the straight-backed pine chair at the end of her bed. Her talk with Kate had lessened her emotional tension.

Bill never should have died, she wanted to scream.

"Goodnight, Bill," she whispered, sitting on the edge of her bed. They had always had a talk at the end of the day. Kate tried to talk to her but Ginny refused. She missed Bill the worst at those times and didn't want to deepen the pain.

Ginny thought of Braeden as she crawled beneath the soft, clean sheets. Bill would be glad she was marrying Braeden. She wished he had not written that letter to Harry's father. Even though Harry was going to be protection, she began to wonder if she would be better off marrying Braeden now and sending Harry home.

He was the most exasperating man Ginny had ever met. The thought of having to put up with his smug highhandedness another day made her want to slap him again. She rubbed her wrists, still stinging from the rope.

A thought- an explosion of curiosity- and Ginny sat straight up. The hole. She still didn't know what the prowler had been digging for.

Ginny made a quick decision. Out of bed, into the work dress, don't worry with shoes, grab the lantern, and down the hallway.

When she stopped at the door, she noticed a lantern's soft glow from near the old stump, right where the man had been digging.

She gripped the metal knob tighter as terror gripped her stomach. He was back!

Then another figure joined the first one: a plump, skirted figure- Kate.

"What do you think, Mr. Harry?" Kate's clear voice pierced the night air while Harry's tone was unintelligible.

Harry. Thank Goodness.

Her hand relaxing on the knob, Ginny smiled. She had caught Kate in the act, just like earlier when Kate was spying on her from the window. But Kate had been spying on her ever since she was a little girl, and Ginny knew Kate did it because she loved her.

Placing her right foot out the door, stopped. The cool stone step against her toes seemed to awaken her fury. I'd rather eat a skunk than face Harry Potter again tonight! With that, she decided to wait until morning to appease her curiosity.

Ginny lowered her lantern and peered into the hole. Nothing. Had Harry found anything last night?

As the morning crickets chirped in unison, ginny felt as if she were stuck in the middle of a tornado. Her whole life of late, everything around her, seemed to be chaos, and she hoped Constable Jones would end it.

"It looks like whoever dug that whole was digging in the wrong spot. I don't think he found what he was looking for," Harry said, walking from the barn.

Jumping, Ginny glanced his way. "Looks like it," she said in a cold, formal voice, then turned to the chicken coop. It was already 5 O'clock; Kate would want the eggs.

A big, warm hand on her shoulder made her stop. "Miss Ginny?" Harry mumbled.

She hesitantly turned to face him.

"I'm sorry for tying you up last night. I've been thinking about it and don't believe it was quite fair or nice. But I was afraid you'd get hurt."

"Ginny, shocked to her toes, wanted to drop her mouth open in surprise. Instead, she schooled her features into the blandest expression she could conjure. "It's okay, Mr. Potter," she heard herself saying.

"I'm glad you feel that way because it's going to be a long winter if we're angry at each other."

This was the perfect opportunity to tell him her decision to marry Braeden this week, then send him on his way. But her tongue would not come away from the roof of her mouth. When it did move she said, "I guess I shouldn't have slapped you. I've never slapped anyone before. It surprised me as much as you."

Chuckling, he rubbed his left jaw. "It was a surprise, that's for sure."

After her initial introduction to Harry, Ginny had not paid much attention to his looks, perhaps because she had been in an uproar over everything else. Yet, here, in the morning darkness, with nothing more than the lantern's light illuminating his face, Ginny caught a glimpse behind that mischievous smile. His glittering green eyes held a hint of compassion and pain and brawny tenacity. Harry Potter was like a combination of soft sunset and a lazy river with dangerous currents that ran relatively deep.

He had even apologized, something lots of men wouldn't do. Braeden never had. But then, they had never fought, either. Do I really want to spend the rest of my life with Braeden?

Blinking at the disturbing question, Ginny realized that she had been staring. "I've…I've been wondering about your accent. You don't sound Texan," she said, trying to make polite conversation.

He pushed his hat off his brow. "I guess that's because I went to school in Boston. Went to law school there too."

"You've been to college?" Ginny had dreamed of attending college before Bill had become ill. Now, she would have to be satisfied with running the ranch.

"Yes. My father insisted on it. I think it's because he only finished the eighth grade. It hasn't made much difference in my job, though. I'm still just one of my Father's ranch hands."

Rachel, for some unexplainable reason, suddenly wanted to know more about Harry's home, his family, his way of life. Instead, she suppressed the urge to ask anything else and said, "I…I guess I need to go gather the eggs. for Momma Kate. I smell smoke from the stove, so breakfast should be ready in an hour or so."

Tell him you're marrying Braeden this week, her common sense urged. But Ginny could not obey. 


End file.
